


(not so) boring stories of glory days

by earnmysong



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earnmysong/pseuds/earnmysong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Fantasy baseball is serious business.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	(not so) boring stories of glory days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abvj](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abvj/gifts), [phrenitis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrenitis/gifts).



> First time writing _Suits_ fic! I tried, you guys. Don't know if I succeeded, but I tried.

\----

Donna is sorting through emails one afternoon, a few clicks of the mouse tucking messages that need to be saved into appropriate folders, deleting spam, and bypassing things she guesses will be long-winded -- Harvey can deal with those.

A Google alert halfway down the page catches her eye; she munches on a handful of m&ms as she waits for it to load. The first sentence is enough to vault her out of her chair and through the door of Harvey's office, her normally impeccable composure replaced with rapid movement and a certain amount of incoherency.

"Har..." There's a pained wheeze in lieu of his full name, which is what she'd been going for. He looks up from the file he's reading, his smile fading the instant he notices her current condition. He's halfway to standing now and she knows he's silently running through the steps of the Heimlich, because he's Harvey.

"I'm fine," she croaks, waving a hand at him so he'll sit. "Although I wouldn't recommend swallowing an m&m whole. It's not fun."

"Yeah, doesn't seem like it would be." He flashes a smile in her direction, equal parts sympathy and amusement. "So. May I ask what exactly has you so worked up that candy has suddenly become a choking hazard?"

"We have to drop Jeter." The words come out flat, matter-of-fact, all business: her the _witness is backing out_ voice. Read between the lines and it conveys: be a mature person here, Harvey. Don't kill the messenger. 

"But we..."

"Just picked him up? I know." She comes around his desk, elbows him out of his chair, pulls up the article from the sports section of this morning's Times. 

"We have to do this fast," he tells the top of her head when he's finished reading, leaning over so he can reach the keyboard. "The trading period is up at the end of the week, right?"

"Friday at five," she confirms, The Thumbtacks' roster coming up on the screen. 

(The name was mutually agreed upon when the league started years ago -- they'd just come up with their pre-trial ritual; plus, sharp objects could do serious damage and, given that they had their sights set on annihilating the competition, it seemed all the more fitting.)

Her fingers start to tap out a rhythm on the metal surface in front of her, an unconscious habit that only comes to light when she's confronted with a particularly complicated situation. 

"We need a strategy here, Paulsen. Get your head in the game!"

Donna tilts her chin up, fixes him with a _really?!_ stare. "First of all, when have you ever called me Paulsen? It's Donna. This is not varsity football. Second, there's no need to yell. I'm right here. Third, have I ever not had a strategy?"

Harvey looks appropriately chastised and Donna enjoys that fact for a few seconds before she lets him off the hook with a wink and a quick quirk of her lips. "Would you like me to enlighten you with my brilliance?"

"By all means," he says, moving to close the door -- this is not a conversation for public consumption. If they 're going to come out of this with their undefeated streak intact, precautions must be taken. "Proceed."


End file.
